a trail down the curve of my neck and across my clavicle, easing away my bra straps as though they were made of magic and he is a talented magician.
“Nate,” I whisper, reveling in the feel of my husband’s name on my lips, the sound of it in the room with us, in the air. It’s like if I exhale it, I can then breathe it in all over again, take him inside me. Keep him with this body forever.
Fingers trembling with need, I pull my husband’s shirt over his head. Shakily, I thread the button of his pants back through the hole, hasty to get my hand inside his trousers, anxious to palm his erection.
I wind my fingers around his thick length, stroking a groan from deep in his chest. The sound rumbles from him and into me, shooting through my body and landing squarely between my thighs.
Breathing heavily, Nate bends his head and takes one of my tingling nipples into his mouth, working it with his tongue until he drags a soft whimper from me. I dig the fingers of my free hand into his hair and clench my fist, something I know he loves.
“Shit!” he hisses, backing away from me to run a hand over his face, searching for his composure.
Nate’s green eyes are smoky with passion, and he looks, for the most part, like a horny frat boy. Like my horny frat boy.
“I want to look at you before you drive me so crazy I can’t see straight,” my husband explains as he struggles to catch his breath.
“You are looking at me,” I quip, a languid grin stretching over my face as I reach for him.
He holds me at bay, lacing his fingers with mine and then bringing our joined digits to his mouth. “No. Really look. I want to memorize you.”
Carefully, as though he’s worshipping not only my skin, but the connection we share, Nate kisses each of my knuckles. My heart pounds. It pounds with desire, yes, but it also pounds with a love so profound I can’t describe it. I can only feel it. Revere it. Bask in it.
Treasure it.
Releasing my hands to my sides, Nate reaches down to tease one nipple, his gaze locked on mine and eating me up as he does so. Slowly, deliberately, his arms come up and around me to unclasp my bra. My breasts fall gently from the confines of the cups.
Lovingly, Nate strokes my skin, his touch as light as a summer rain, before he moves to my waist to unfasten my pants. He squats before me, nudging the material over the curve of my hips then letting it fall to pool around my ankles. My panties follow, Nate’s warm palms skimming the outsides of my thighs as he traces the length of my legs.
When I stand before him in nothing but the wedge of lamplight coming through the open bedroom door, he steps back to admire what he so carefully revealed.
“You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever seen. As stunning outside as you are inside.” He takes a step closer. “Do you know that I still fantasize about you?” Nate rakes the backs of his fingers over the tips of my heavy breasts. “About doing things to you? Hearing you say my name, feeling your body so tight around mine? Have I ever told you that?”
My mouth is dry, and I’m spellbound.
Heart swollen, body aching, I shake my head. “No.”
For years, I’ve been self-conscious about my physique. Despite Nate’s insistence that he loves my body, I’ve never been able to shake my insecurity. I know my husband loves me, but I’ve always been afraid that one day he would see my flaws more clearly than he would see the things he loves about me, that he would realize there are prettier, younger, thinner women out there. But he never has. And I hate that I’ve underestimated him all this time, hate that I’ve wasted so many years being so neurotic.
“I do. I’ve never met someone who could so thoroughly captivate me. Even after all these years. I’m not sure I ever really thought it was possible—to still want someone this much after so long—and yet... Here I am. Captivated.”
When Nate lowers his mouth to mine, I taste the salt of the tears I can’t contain. Nate leans away and looks down at me. “What’s the matter, baby?”
With the pad of his thumb, he wipes away a single droplet before it can run down my